Angela Wybrow Poems

It is over twenty-five years ago,
Since this lady performed a live show:
Way back then, she was one of four,
Topping the charts with hit songs galore.
...

Way beneath the sizzling sun,
Dozens of children are having fun.
Dressed in swimwear, they’re having a ball,
In the fountains outside Festival Hall.
...

First, the babe in arms,
Dressed in clothes of pink;
Who feasts upon Farley’s Rusks;
Who loves warm milk to drink.
...

There’s a day every summer which I cannot bear:
The day when millions of ants all take to the air.
The sultry summer air suddenly comes alive,
As, around and about, the ants dart and dive.
...

There's a pond at the centre of the village green,
Where ducks, moorhen and coot can be seen.
It's a feature which adds to the character and charm.
When sat by the pond, you feel a real sense of calm.
...

On leaving Inchcolm Island, on the rocks,
We spotted a large colony of seals.
The boat drifted in to take a closer look.
The noisy engine, the skipper killed.
...

Seeing poppies growing in the wild,
Takes me back to when I was a child.
We’d often go for walks on a Sunday,
And often spot poppies along the way.
...

On the grassy river bank,
We place our tartan rug upon the ground.
The gently flowing river and random birdsong,
Are the only audible sounds.
...

Groups of herring-girls, in crews of three,
Watched and waited upon the South Quay;
Upon empty swills, some girls would sit -
Fishermen's ganseys, they would busily knit.
...

So delicious on the lips,
But so fattening on the hips.
Sticky, gooey, chocolaty fingers.
On my tongue, the sweet taste lingers.
...